


Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But Words Will Hurt Forever

by Sir_Bedevere



Series: Dragonstone Days [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, general adorableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Bedevere/pseuds/Sir_Bedevere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There aren't many things Devan knows that his father doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But Words Will Hurt Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in an ongoing series of all the little ficlets and ideas that I have regarding my absolute favourite set of characters in Westeros. These aren't in chronological order and I can't guarantee some won't be sad but consider all of them to be in the same little backstory universe that I have created in my head.

Father had been very quiet at dinner, and Devan was worried; he had been quiet a lot since Blackwater.

Devan had written to his mother to ask her what he should do, and she said that Father needed time to think about everything and to remember that he was never angry with Devan when he was thinking. So the boy had tried his best to understand, but this time something was different and he didn’t know what.

It was only the two of them in his father’s modest suite but Devan loved it. He loved spending time with his father that none of his brothers had ever had, although now he sometimes felt guilty that they never had the chance at all. Dinner had been a good one but they ate it in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable – it never was – but it also wasn’t right. Soon after, Devan crept up to bed.

He fell asleep quickly – he’d had a long day sparring with Edric and Bryen – but woke again around midnight. Father was talking to someone downstairs, his voice low and irritable. His curiosity getting the better of him, Devan slipped from his bed and tiptoed downstairs. He didn’t know who he expected to find but he was surprised to see Father was in fact alone. He was clutching a thin open book and turned guiltily as his son came in.

“Father, what’s wrong?” Devan asked anxiously, “You’ve been quiet all evening.”

“I’m sorry, son. A long day, that’s all.”

“I don’t mind,” the boy said, moving closer to the fire as he noticed for the first time the chill from the stone floor, “What are you reading?”

“I’m not,” Father sighed, “I’ve been wrestling with it all day but none of it makes any sense.”

Father had been working hard on his self-imposed task of learning to read and write; Devan had listened outside the room sometimes with the princess, but they knew he was finding it very difficult. The maester had explained to them, when they asked why, that adults found learning much harder than children. That was strange – it had never occurred to either of them that there was something they would better at than a grown up, and especially one like Davos.

“I could help you,” Devan said perching on the arm of the chair, “If you like.”

Father smiled gently and patted his leg, “I didn’t mean to sound like I was asking you to help. You have enough work to do as it is.”

“No, I want to! Please let me help.”

They locked eyes for a moment and Devan thought that he was going to be denied. Father wasn’t a proud man but he had some odd moments of stubbornness that seemed to come from nowhere and never went away. Then, slowly, he nodded and pulled Devan down he was sat on his lap. At eleven, Devan was really far too old for such things and Edric would tease him if he ever found out, but he loved his father so much and he’d been so sad when he thought he was dead and this was a good way to remind himself he really was alive. 

It was good for Father too, to know that he still had some sons left. That was another thing Mother had said Devan had to help remind him of.

He was handed the book and he saw it was full of the stories that Father refused to read with Maester Pylos. He turned to the first one and smiled at the drawing of the unicorn. It was one of his favourites.

“I’ll read it out loud and you follow along. Then you can try.”

Father didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around his back and looked pointedly at the pages, a hint of a smile on his face.


End file.
